The Gift
by OnlyInValhalla
Summary: At the end of a long war Severus Snape gets the surprise of his life from his wife.


FAGE 12. Never Too Late to Start Anew

Title: **The Gift**

Written for: **Przybyszewski**

Written By: **OnlyInValhalla**

Rating: **T**

Summary/Prompt used: **A man gets the surprise of his life from his wife.**

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The door at Spinner's End opened easily at her touch. The house was dark, but she didn't need light to navigate her way around it despite how it was now entirely empty. She'd been here in all manner of lighting over the past five years as the war drug on and on.

Her fingers trailed along the peeling wallpaper as she crept down the hall, counting the doors her fingers trailed across until she reached the last on the left. She knew there was only a few more feet until she reached the door at the end. In the dark she felt for and wrapped her hand around the knob, then waited for a moment. He knew she was there and there was nothing to do but see if it was locked, which it may very well be if he was still packing. She gave it an experimental twist and the door swung open.

Severus was bent over his desk. The dark curtain of his long hair hanging down, concealing much of his face from her view. He'd been on her about trimming it over the past couple of weeks but she'd been busy with the arrangements. The box she'd charmed to fit all of their belongings sat next to him. This room too, was empty with the exception of the journal he was writing in and two small silver urns. Her breath caught at the sight of them and she had to force her eyes away. She shoved the sorrow back down into its box and slammed the lid. Now was not the time.

"I take it you were successful?" He didn't even look up from his steady scrawl.

"Of course I was. Tomorrow all of Britain will hear of our exile for a list of war crimes. I imagine it'll be in every magical publication in existence as well." The worst part was that everything that was to be published was true. She, Severus, and Draco had made some horrific potions based weapons when the Death Eaters escalated their attacks. It was die or fight back, and she hadn't made it that far to give up.

The scratch of quill on paper paused for just a moment before he wrapped up what he was working on and closed the book, laying it in the nearly full box with care.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You have a whole life ahead of you. So young, so much potential. With a little work you could maneuver into position to run things." He leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced together across his stomach as he watched her with those black eyes it'd taken her so long to learn to read. Much like Draco Malfoy, she'd learned that the way to read Severus Snape was by the set of his eyes.

"I gave enough of myself in fighting this war, I have no desire to stick around and clean up the mess. Running the show is overrated. I have the rest of that wherever we go. There's nothing left for me here, especially if you're not here. Besides, it's not as if we won't find plenty of opportunities elsewhere. We're both skilled, talented Potion Masters. Any hospital would buy from us, not to mention apothecaries. Many of those outsource the brewing portion nowadays. Not that we really need the gold." She forced her thoughts away from the truth of why she was in possession of the Malfoy fortune.

"Come here," he said. He'd always been able to read her, even without Legilimency. Her expression betrayed her when she was wrapped up in her thoughts more often than not.

She rounded the desk and stepped between his knees, then hopped up to sit on the desk. He rolled his chair forward until the inside of her calves were resting on his outer thighs. He caught one of her hands and stroked the back of his with his thumb until her eyes met his. Severus was not normally an affectionate man, but he was never one to deny his wife's needs.

"Draco loved you, as much as I love you. He wouldn't want you to agonize over the incident forever. He would want you to be happy and to live. Honor his memory and his love by upholding that and knowing he felt comforted by the knowledge you would be taken care of should something happen to him."

She nodded her head and brushed away her tears. Severus was right. Draco wouldn't want her to mourn him forever, living a half life. "What do you think of starting in Japan? Their cherry blossom festivals start soon. Then we can wend our way Eastward."

"It would be a unique chance to gather some rare potion ingredients as we toured the Wizarding communities. I have a few things yet to teach you, after all." He pulled her hand just hard enough to slide her off the desk.

She slid into his lap and slumped forward until she was laying across his chest. It was an uncommon moment of affection, but she suspected the fact they were about to leave everything behind, likely forever, had something to do with it. Her head rested beneath his chin and she relaxed into the fingers that had begun to languidly stroke her back.

"How do you think Potter will take the news tomorrow?"

"Not well. I left a package on his desk with a means to contact me. That should keep him from causing an enormous spectacle and coming after us. I imagine he'll still come unglued but it should soften the blow."

"Typical. Still prone to outbursts and tantrums." He snorted softly.

Hermione shrugged. She loved Harry, would always love Harry, but the war had slowly pulled them apart. She'd been required in the Potions lab with Draco and Severus while he was out chasing down Horcruxes and Death Eaters. The time alone did its work, but finding out that Harry had arranged for her to stay out of battle. Well, that had done massive damage on its own.

Draco and Harry were her past. Severus was her future.

"I'm guessing you're already packed?" She tilted her head back to peek up at him.

"Obviously, if the empty house didn't clue you into that." He gave her a look that would have made her shrink away years ago, but it somehow didn't have the same effect anymore.

"Well, I didn't look in every room. Better to ask than assume."

"Yes, everything's ready. I take it you've already swept Grimmauld for any stray items."

She nodded and sighed. It'd been difficult, but she was sure all of her things were collected from the scattered residences she'd sheltered at over the past several years. All that was left of her were packages and letters that would appear tomorrow morning to bid her farewells after they were long gone.

She absorbed the comfort for a few more moments before sitting up and looking at him. There was something she had to be sure of.

"Are you sure _you_ want to go? Britain has been your home for over forty years." She could have the plans cancelled. Kingsly had given her until eight the next morning to back out.

"This place is forever ruined for me. Sullied memories are everywhere I turn. Besides, all I need is you and the gift of freedom you've procured that I never thought I'd live to see. Wherever we go on this Earth is irrelevant as long as you're there with me."

She leaned forward and stole a kiss from his lips, only to have him thread his fingers through her hair and hold her in place for a much longer one.

"Let us go now, you and I," he murmured against her mouth.

Her lips quirked as she glanced outside at the stars twinkling over London. "When the evening is spread out against the sky."

She rose from his lap and he followed. A wave of his wand later everything shrank, then zoomed into his inner coat pocket. His hand rested on her waist and they walked through the house for likely the last time. They stood in the small room that had once been a library, but was so much more. It was where she'd experienced love, loss, and belonging afterwards. It had been a room of many firsts and lasts. Of all the places, this was the most bittersweet.

She pulled a Kokeshi doll from her beaded bag and unwrapped it from the satin cloth. She withdrew her wand, pointed it and cast the Portus charm. It gave a tinkling sound and they joined hands, grabbing each end of the doll with their free hands. Thirty seconds later, they felt the jerk of portkey travel and found themselves standing, facing the early morning sunshine.

She tucked the doll back into the bag, linked her arm with his and followed him out to find some sort of home in their new adventure away from war, away from sorrow, and into the brightness of the future.


End file.
